Tales Of Our Times
By JOHN BARTLIT
Los Alamos
New Mexico Citizens
for Clean Air & Water
The Story Of Prickly Pear Is Worthy Of Its Name
Prickly pear fruit thrive in an eerie setting full of cactus needles. In that briar patch are seeds for a “magical” story, like an ecosystem. The long story is a rustic mix of the down-home, with spicy hints of the exotic, and unlikely innovations.
Some 8- or 9,000 years ago, the prickly pear was a staple food grown in its native regions of Mexico and the American West. Despite the whims of history, prickly pear farmers are still on the job today. Both the vivid fruit and broad, green prickly pads, which are the stems, make nutritious food and drink.
As a rule, plant species that lots of folks use for enough centuries gain status as a folk remedy for common ills. Prickly pear follow the rule. Various folk records tell us the prickly pear excels at easing the symptoms of type 2 diabetes. The same goes for wounds, inflammation, indigestion, heat sickness, and a dozen more of the sort.
Beyond uses as food and folk cures, other features of prickly pear yield rich dyes, easy fences, and new music.
Potent red and purple dyes derive from the cochineal beetles that feed on cactus pads in North and South America. In the mid-1700s, Aussies knew about the world trade in costly royal dyes, but Australia had none of the right beetles nor proper cacti. Their efforts to get both proved to be a historic disaster. The story is set in ages long past when Australian ecosystems evolved far from most of the world. This quirk has always made Australia vulnerable to surprise ruin from invasive species.
In 1788, Captain Arthur Phillip chose a few cochineal-infested plants in Brazil to take with him for dye-making in Australia. Ecosystems must be reckoned with. The cochineal insects soon died off, while the cacti ran rampant into the 1900s. At fierce rates, the invasion overran farmland in ways that forced crops and farmers off the land.
Remedies were futile until a few heroes tracked down nature’s hero. The scourge ended in the 1920s by bringing the Cactoblastis moth from Brazil, whose larvae attack the prickly pear. The cactus curse Down Under was so brutal that its final cure was honored with a stone monument to the heroic moth.
But beware. Ecosystems still matter. The same moth is a current threat to valuable cactus crops in the U.S., due to our dissimilar ecosystems. In South Africa, the same moth cut short the supply of cactus used for cattle fodder.
On a lighter note, I have heard cactus spines played as music. The spines give out varied tones and pitches when well plucked or struck. When amplified, their ringing chimes a clear “plick, pling … plin-n-ng.” New times brought new chances for cacti. In 1976, John Cage composed the piece, “Branches”.
Today, Mexico accounts for roughly half of the world’s production and use of prickly pear. Italy ranks second with about 12 percent of the total and South Africa is third, with some 3 percent of the total.
The rise in human populations raises the demand for food sources and enough water to grow them. These factors, and more, raise conflicts with food security and related ecosystems. The trends now in sight rouse renewed interest in more versatile crops, such as the prickly pear of old.
